Chapter Eight #3
A high-pitched, broken moan tears out of me…
loud, shameless, and unmistakably sexual.
It echoes off the walls of the empty break room, raw and needy, the kind of sound I would die of embarrassment over if anyone were still nearby.
My back arches hard off the table, toes curling, body trembling around the thick length buried inside me.
Soren stills for half a second, then lets out a deep, satisfied groan that vibrates through his chest. “Fuck… that sound,” he rasps, voice rough with hunger.
His dark eyes gleam as he looks down at me, drinking in every twitch of my face, every gasp, every helpless little noise I can’t hold back. “Do it again for me, Kit.”
He pulls back slowly, almost gently, only to thrust back in harder, hitting that same devastating spot. Another high, keening moan rips from my throat before I can stop it, louder this time.
Soren’s grin is sharp and pleased, his inked muscles flexing as he starts a slow, punishing rhythm.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “Let me hear you… louder.”
He slams into me again, and I can’t help it, another desperate cry spills out, jolting me with every deep thrust while Soren watches me fall apart beneath him, clearly loving every second of it.
The pool table creaks under us as he sets a brutal rhythm, driving into me hard and fast, like he’s trying to bury every ounce of the day’s frustration inside my body.
I’ve never really spoken during sex, rarely touched him on my own. But right now, that small spark of confidence from earlier… the strange, victorious feeling of stopping him from hurting Armen… makes me braver than usual.
When Soren leans over me, his mouth hot and demanding against my jaw, I slide both hands into his thick, dark hair without thinking. My fingers tighten in the strands as another sharp thrust hits that perfect spot inside me.
“Oh god, Soren!” I moan, voice high and shaky. “Right there!”
Soren groans deeply, the sound vibrating against my skin. He keeps his head right there, letting me clutch at his hair, letting me hold onto him like I never usually do.
Emboldened, I do something even more unusual… I wrap my legs around his waist as best I can, ankles crossing at the small of his back, heels pressing into the hard muscle. The new angle makes him sink even deeper.
That’s when something wild happens. Soren lets out a rare, high-pitched groan, almost a broken whine, and his hips stutter sharply. His rhythm falters for a second, then he buries himself to the hilt and comes hard, pulsing deep inside me with a low, shocked curse.
“Fuck…” he growls, sounding annoyed at himself.
I can feel the warmth of it, the way his cock twitches and throbs inside me. The realisation that he came early because of me sends a dizzy rush through my body. Without thinking, I start grinding up against him, rolling my hips in small, desperate circles.
It only takes a few seconds before the pressure becomes too much. A helpless whimper escapes me as my own orgasm crashes through me. I spill between our bodies, painting my stomach and the bottom of Soren’s shirt with warm streaks, my legs tighten around his waist as I shake through it.
Soren stays pressed against me, breathing hard, his forehead resting against mine while we both come down. We stay like that for a long moment, nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing filling the quiet room.
My legs are still trembling around Soren’s waist. Slowly, hesitantly, I unravel them from his back, expecting him to pull out, straighten up, and slip back into that cold, menacing version of himself he shows the rest of the world…
but he doesn’t move. He stays buried deep inside me, heavy and warm, his chest pressed to mine.
I swallow hard, confusion and nerves twisting in my stomach.
Why isn’t he pulling away? Is he tired? Or…
embarrassed about coming so suddenly? The thought feels strange and almost impossible.
Then Soren lifts his head just enough to look at me. My face instantly floods with heat. This feels too intimate, far past the usual boundary I can barely handle even on a normal night. His dark eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them, and when they drop to my lips, my heart stutters violently.
I turn my face to the side quickly, staring at the closed door like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
“I, uh…” My voice comes out small and unsteady. I scramble for a lie. “I told Lorraine I’d help her with dinner.”
The excuse hangs awkwardly between us.
Soren is quiet for a beat. Then he grunts, low and displeased. “Fine.”
He doesn’t sound fine at all. There’s a sharp edge of disappointment in his voice that makes my stomach tighten. He still doesn’t pull out right away. For a few more seconds he lingers, hips pressed flush against me, like he’s reluctant to let the moment end.
I keep my face turned away, cheeks burning, heart racing with a confusing mix of relief and something I don’t want to name.
Finally, he shifts, slowly sliding out of me with a wet sound that makes me flinch. The sudden emptiness feels strangely wrong. But I don’t say anything. I just lie here on the pool table in his blood-stained shirt, trying to pretend my pulse isn’t still hammering in my ears.